"You know," an aching Taj was saying much later, "it occurs to me that if you substituted a cross-eyed cow for the Maid of Milkow in good Wiliam's last soliloquy, then the payoff would be not only twice as funny, but—"
"For Bubastis's sake," Cocoa admonished him, "don't make me laugh any more!" Wincing slightly, she clutched at her left side just below the lowermost rib. "My insides already feel as if they've been taken apart and put back together again with string and spittle."
"Maybe that's what's happened to Quoll and the other two." As he picked his way through the forest, Cezer continued to groom gruesome little bits of red-orange goo out of his hair and clothing. While doing so, he lamented the fact that in his present form he could not reach certain multiple problem areas with his tongue. "With luck, maybe Wiliam made them laugh so hard they exploded."
From time to time they were distracted by a crashing or thumping in the woods behind them. At such moments they would draw their weapons and assume defensive postures and positions. Each time, it turned out to be nothing more than some eccentric forest dweller, chuckling and chortling its way through the weald. Catching sight of the travelers, it would invariably emit a burst of startled laughter before whirling and sprinting off in the opposite direction.
Even the food here was happy. Prey perished beneath their weapons with nary a scream, inevitably expiring with a smile on its face and a last, gasping giggle. Fruit coughed amusedly when plucked from vines or branches, and berries tittered in squeaky, high-pitched tones when popped between hungry teeth.
Making a face, Cocoa flung one snickering pit from her lips and chewed reluctantly on the sweet pulp that filled her mouth. "The sooner we're out of these woods, the better I'll like it. I prefer my food dead silent, not mocking me as I eat."
"Could be worse." Oskar glanced back over a shoulder. "It could fight back."
"Let it fight," she snapped at him. "I like my food to resist a little. What good is a mouse that won't try to escape? Where's the fun in that?" Her expression crinkled. "I don't think I could kill a mouse that giggled at me."
"Hush." Mamakitty raised a hand, and those behind her slowed. "I think the forest is opening up. The light is growing brighter, too."
Conversation ceased as they made their way forward at a more cautious pace. Not knowing what to expect, they had learned in the course of crossing between two kingdoms to be ready for anything. Or so they thought. They were not prepared for the sight that greeted them as they stepped out of the thick foliage.
The daylight had certainly changed. Not only had it grown brighter, but their surroundings were now tinged with an intense lemony yellow. It was almost normal, and would have been more so had not the tawny tint overwhelmed all else: the brush and high grass that had replaced the forest, the lazy yellowish stream that flowed from north to south in front of them, the translucent flying creatures that soared high overhead in the depths of a saffron sky.
And the gigantic wall of massive cut limestone that paralleled the stream and completely blocked their way eastward.
Oskar had to tilt his head back to squint all the way to the top of the Brobdingnagian barrier. At first glance, it looked as solid as it was high. Closer inspection revealed that it was indeed constructed of impenetrable, immovable, yellowish rock. No facade raised by desperate magic, it had been piled up block by block to discourage intruders. It certainly discouraged Oskar and his companions.
"Can we go around it, do you think?" Mamakitty was gazing down the length of the wall.
"We certainly can't go over it." Standing beside the little stream that ran along the base of the bulwark, Oskar cast an uneasy glance back the way they had come. Were Quoll and his vampiric companions even now being well and thoroughly marigolded by Nugwot and his followers, or had they managed to break free, and were they at this very moment racing through the forest to overtake their fleeing quarry?
"There was a time when I could have." Taj sounded wistful.
"Over here!" Having hiked a little ways downstream from the others, Cezer was beckoning for them to join him.
"What is it?" Oskar called out, cupping his hands in front of his mouth. "A way over?"
"Not over." Cezer was standing up against the wall, nearly hidden by the oh-so-slight curvature of the barrier. "But maybe through."
The gate was massive. Fashioned of heavy wooden planks embellished with intricately carved whorls and spirals and braced with iron, it loomed over their heads, reaching almost to the top of the smooth-sided stone rampart. Mamakitty was the first to note the similarities among the numerous designs that decorated the wall.
"See?" With a finger she traced one particularly elaborate cochlear shape. "Lines radiate from each corkscrew design, sometimes connecting multiple carvings. I think each one must, in one way or another, represent the sun."
"There are dozens of different kinds." Kneeling, Taj was examining a large disc form near the base of the gate. "Here's one with a multitude of internal coils."
"And here's another that shows some kind of flames spurting from the edge." Cezer laughed. "Whoever carved these didn't know what they were doing. I mean, certainly the sun is hot, but it's not on fire!"
"I suppose it's understandable that the people of this country pay a lot of attention to the sun." Oskar was studying the cast iron hinges and bands that held the enormous doors together. "After all, this is the Kingdom of Yellow."
"A kingdom is a kingdom." Retreating to the edge of the glistening rill, Cezer tilted back his head to study the top of the barrier. "If I can climb half as well as I used to, I'm pretty certain I can make it to the top of this gate."
"So am I," concurred Mamakitty, "and likely Cocoa as well. But where does that leave the others?"
"It's too much for me." Oskar stood alongside Cezer. "I never was much of a climber. Somehow I don't think I can dig under this fence, either." As for Samm, the giant's comment on the barrier before them took the form of a single grunt. His thick fingers would never be able to gain a purchase on the grainy grouting between the stones or the thin cracks in the rocks themselves.
"Then we're stuck." Mamakitty was not giving up, but she was clearly discouraged.
"Not necessarily." Cocoa was examining the wall. "If some of us can get over, we can try and open the gate from the other side."
"What if the gatekeepers object to your intentions?" Mamakitty asked her.
She frowned. "What gatekeepers? I don't see or hear any gatekeepers."
"Exactly my point. Why should they have to watch a gate as big and solid and strongly made as this one? But if there's some kind of guard post or station on the other side, you can be sure they'll be watching you as you climb down. We don't know how they'll react. We don't even know what they might look like."
"Why don't we just ask them?"
Everyone turned to where Taj was standing next to the gate. "And just how do you propose we go about doing that?" Cezer inquired acerbically.
Turning slightly, Taj pressed both hands against the door behind him and pushed. From within the massive wooden gate there arose a profound creaking as it swung slightly inward. Smiling apologetically, Taj replied to his questioner.
"It's not locked."
ELEVEN
One by one, they approached the narrow opening Taj had accidentally discovered and peered through the gate. Though only a small gap, it was enough to permit them to see clearly within. The panorama that greeted their anxious, impatient gazes was sufficient to banish any fears.
The light within the Kingdom of Yellow was almost normal. Not to the point of allowing other colors to exist, but close enough to what they remembered from home so the travelers felt more comfortable with what they were seeing than at any time since they had entered the rainbow. It was a pleasant, comforting light that imparted a warm glow to everything it touched upon—this although the sky was noticeably overcast, to the point where the visitors cast no shadows upon the yellowish ground.
There was no guard post,
no barracks full of angry gatekeepers waiting to challenge those with the temerity to simply walk in. Instead, fields of waving wheatlike grass stretched to the distant horizon, interrupted only by isolated thickets of slender, buttery-yellow trees that rose from the flavescent savanna like stiff whiskers on a cat's face. There was just enough of a breeze to moderate the temperature, which itself was far from unpleasant. The air had a bracing freshness to it that had been lacking in the torpid kingdoms of Red and Orange, and was suffused with a faint perfume Oskar could not identify.
They could not see the color of the sky, hidden as it was by the yellowish gray overcast. The occasional stronger breeze whistling in their ears, they stepped cautiously through the gap and into the kingdom. Having been the one to open the door, Taj thoughtfully closed it behind him. Looking down at himself, he saw that he was once again a delightful yellow.
Stretching his arms high and wide, Cezer inhaled deeply of the pure, delicious air. "What a wonderful place! If we weren't in such a hurry, I'd lie down right here and now and have a nap."
"Have you forgotten that Nugwot and his followers may still be on our trail?" Cocoa reminded him. "Not to mention Quoll and his bloodsucking pair of retainers."
"With any luck, by now Quoll and the others should be thoroughly marigolded. As for Nugwot and his happy-sappy sycophants, even if they are uncompromising enough to continue their pursuit, I don't think they're likely to give us any trouble for a long time, if ever." Shyly, Taj stepped aside to reveal the single large, iron bolt he had thrown. The enormous gate was now locked securely behind them.
"Good for you, featherhead!" Strolling over, Cezer clapped the smaller man hard enough across the shoulders to bruise the skin, following which substantial gesture of affection he yawned and began to inspect the ground. "Now, who else is for that nap?"
"We can't just curl up and go to sleep in the middle of the day," Mamakitty admonished him firmly. "Cats do that. Not people on a mission."
"Grouchy old sardine-head," Cezer muttered.
Deep yellow-green eyes narrowed. "What did you say?"
The swordsman sighed resignedly. "That when night arrives I'll be ready to crouch on my bed. Which way?" Being human, he mused, was far from being all wonderment and delight.
Oskar considered the height of the sun and the balance of the fine day that remained to them. "East, my friend. Always east, until we come to the place where the white light is to be found."
"If there is such a place," Cezer grumbled as he fell into line.
In truth, as the day wore on, Oskar found it harder and harder to keep from seconding Cezer's sleepy-time suggestion. The air, the temperature, the occasional gentle warm breeze, the soft saffron-stained herbage underfoot, combined to induce within him a growing lassitude he had not allowed himself to feel for many days. The thought of lying down and drifting off, of letting himself be lifted gently into the arms of blissful midday sleep, was something he had to fight against with every step.
Where would be the harm? he told himself. With the great gate fastened behind them, their rear was secure. No pursuit, no matter how determined or fanatical, could reach them from the Kingdom of Orange. In all the time they had been traipsing across the golden savanna, no threat had manifested itself. If not an entirely benign land, this Kingdom of Yellow was surely bound to be more obliging than the two they had already traversed.
Unable at last to stand it any longer, with the lure of a nap threatening to drag him bodily down to the inviting earth, he put the proposal before Mamakitty a second time. Perhaps the long walk, he thought, had made her more amenable. Her response surprised him.
"You're our leader, Oskar. If you think this is an appropriate time and place for a nap, then you need to say so."
A quick glance at the rest of his companions was enough to give him the answer he sought. "A rest will do us good. Be a refreshing change. Who knows when we'll have the opportunity again?" He indicated a nearby pond, from which sprouted lemon-tinted reeds with hollow stems that whistled lullabies in the gentle wind. "This place is perfect. We'll set a watch," he concluded.
That was sufficient to satisfy the always wary Mamakitty, who, truth be told, had herself gazed longingly at every potentially soft spot on the ground ever since they had left the great wall behind. With Cocoa volunteering to take the first watch, she curled up against a pile of cushiony fungi and was almost instantly asleep. She was followed by the others, with not one of them having yet bothered to wonder why so seemingly benevolent a country needed so colossal a defensive fortification.
Later, having been wakened from several hours of perfect somnolence, a much refreshed Oskar had been on watch for less than twenty minutes when he detected movement in the tawny grass. No ordinary human would have noticed the slight stirring, but like his companions in trek, Oskar possessed senses far more sensitive than those of his former masters.
He did not draw his sword. Neither did he wake his friends. The stirring bespoke no immediate threat. A wandering animal, perhaps, passing through or simply curious. They had seen precious little wildlife since leaving the Kingdom of Orange. He concentrated on the area of the movement without staring in its direction, ready to pounce or leap aside should the situation require a rapid reaction.
It did not, though some sort of calculated response was surely in order. As the sun finally began to emerge from behindthe cloud cover, a line of little people emerged from the high sedge and came toward him. Unlike their former guide Wiliam or the other inhabitants of the Kingdom of Orange, these folk were perfectly proportioned and no hairier than an ordinary human. None stood taller than the dog-man's waist. Had he been standing on all fours, they would have found themselves eye to eye. Men and women walked together, side by side. They were smartly but not lavishly attired. Each carried an unusually large fan or shield fashioned from some woven, yellowish beige plant material. As the setting sun peeked out from beneath the dissipating clouds, these were raised into place to shield them completely from evening rays. So precisely and uniformly did they perform this maneuver that Oskar was reminded of the time he had seen a troop of passing soldiers present their swords in salute to Master Evyndd.
While the body of the line halted, the diminutive woman in the lead continued to advance. Imbued now as he was with human feelings and desires, Oskar decided that she was attractive enough, though mating was not at the forefront of his thoughts. Instead, he found himself focusing on the jeweled knife she wore at her waist. The blade was longer than her short, woven skirt, the tip reaching nearly to her knee. Her companions carried similar finely wrought weapons, though none were drawn. Still, the potential for danger was there.
With a shout, he woke his slumbering companions.
Halting a short distance away as they rose to their feet, she studied the tall strangers. Her gaze lingered slightly longer, as did those of her fellows, on the massive bulk of Samm hovering silently at the rear of the group. When she finally spoke, her words were directed at the nearest traveler, who happened to be Oskar.
"Some of our youths hunting near the great gate saw you enter. As soon as the village was informed of your coming, we organized this welcoming party." With a supple sweep of one arm she indicated the cortege behind her. "We do not recognize your origin. You are obviously not citizens of the Kingdom of Orange, nor of Green." Leaning to one side, she peered behind Oskar, where there was nothing but weak evening shadow. "Where do you come from? I, the Princess Ourie, entreat the favor of a reply."
Oskar found he was getting used to answering this apparently inevitable question. He proceeded to provide as reasonable an explanation for their presence as he could. While he did so, Taj leaned close to whisper to Cocoa.
"I don't think we have anything to fear from these folk. Not only are they very much smaller than us, from the way their heads keep twisting around and their eyes keep darting constantly from place to place, they look like they're afraid of their own shadows."
The little woman spoke aga
in. "So your intention is notto linger among us, but to move on as swiftly as possible to the Kingdom of Green?"
"That's right," Oskar replied. "Any help or guidance you can give us will be much appreciated."
"Guidance? Help?" She looked at him as if he had taken leave of his senses. "To reach our neighboring Kingdom of Green you must cross the Great Rift. None among us dare try it, but we will not stop you. There is no way around the Rift, and no safe passage through it, though as strangers of unknown origin and powers you may have more success than we." She eyed him thoughtfully, her voice unchanging. "Most probably, you will die."
"That's what I like to hear every time we arrive somewhere new," Cezer remarked dryly. "Encouragement."
"This rift." Mamakitty moved up to stand alongside Oskar.
"Is it a wide canyon, or just a gully with steep sides? There are good climbers among us."
"It is not a question of climbing, but of avoiding the danger that lurks within," the wee royalty informed her. "And as you must know, for you all seem to be of at least moderate intelligence, that which is always with one can never be avoided."
"Petite, beautiful, and vague." Sensing extended conversation, Cezer had assumed a cross-legged sitting position on the invitingly warm ground. There was now enough sunlight for his shadow to join him. "Not how I like my females."
"I wouldn't concern myself about it," observed Cocoa pointedly. "She doesn't exactly seem to be clamoring for your attentions."
"How could you be so sure we were strangers here?" Mamakitty eyed the princess curiously. "Mightn't we have come from some far distant part of the Kingdom of Yellow?"
The highborn shook her head firmly. "Your foreign origins are immediately apparent. Not only are you not Slevish"—she indicated the patiently waiting retinue strung out behind her—"but you carry among you not a single kwavin with which to protect yourselves."
Kingdoms of Light Page 18
